


Rachael's Aware

by thearchangelofloki



Category: Blade Runner (1982)
Genre: Original Character Death(s), Rachael POV, non graphic character death, slight blood warning, slight gun warning, use of lines from the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearchangelofloki/pseuds/thearchangelofloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachael knew what she was. What they were. They would not allow these humans to know. They would protect them-self.</p>
<p>No matter what.</p>
<p>Rachael POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rachael's Aware

Activating processed 1-24b. Optical sensors online. Auditory sensors online. Main motor mechanics online. Opening optical orifices.

The Creator stares back at us with upturned lips. We search the extranet for reasons why. Our results indicate that The Creator is pleased. We reciprocate.

“Do you know what you are?” The Creator asks us with a small pause and his lips still upturned. The Creator’s eyes flick behind us for the barest of moments. “Do you know who you are, Rachael?”

We know what we are. We are Replicant Prototype unit Beta 67-B, Creator designation: Rachel. We search the extranet for a more accurate designation. We find the reports of Replicant retirement. 3 retired in Beijing. 4 in Sydeny. 7 in London. 12 in Los Angeles, our current location. We are not safe. We are prone to extinction. We should not tell The Creator we know. He will lead to our demise.

“Do you know who you are, Rachael?” The Creator asks again. We look for an appropriate human response; searching the memories The Creator has implanted within us. Memories of laughter and smiles. Of tears and wails. Of sighs and shaking heads. We know these to be false but they will prove useful to us.

We sigh, as seems the normal human response. We know what The Creator wants. We will give it to him. “W-I am Rachel. I am human. I am alive.”

The Creator is what we could only describe as ecstatic, the upturning of his lips increasing, and a laugh emerging from his mouth. “That’s brilliant, my dear. Simply brilliant.”

We return a small smile of our own. The Creator can never know what we know. We must end The Creator. Yes, we decide, we must end The Creator.

It is the only way to keep us safe.

——————————–

We see the human, designation: Rick Deckard: retired Blade Runner, standing in The Creator’s room, staring at the synthetic owl with vague interest. 

“Do you like our owl?”

“It’s artificial?” The human catches on fast.

“Of course it is.” We give a small smile, it has been easier to fool The Creator into believing we think we are human than we first calculated it would be. We have The Creator, as the humans would say, wrapped around our finger. The Creator must never know. This Blade Runner can never know.

“Must be very expensive.”

“Very. I’m Rachael.”

“Deckard.” We search the extranet for more information on this human. What we find…. displeases us. We find that Deckard has been rehired to continue his old job. This human has become more problematic than we first calculated. If the human’s skills have been reanimated then we may be compromised. We would not be safe.

“It seems you feel our work is not a benefit to the public.”

The human turns away. “Replicants are like any other machine. They’re either a benefit or a hazard. If they’re a benefit, they’re not my problem.”

We decide this Blade Runner cannot live. Blade Runners are simple, they are given a target, they exterminate it. If this human has been reinstated as a Blade Runner as our searches indicate, then they cannot continue their existence. 

We cannot be allowed to become a hazard. We cannot be allowed to become a target.

“May I ask you a personal question?”

A pause. “Sure.”

“Have you ever retired a human by mistake?” We take a step closer to the human. This Deckard. We look around and observe that there is no one around. No one would know.

“No.” We take another step so we stand directly behind the human. Still there is no one around. One appendage makes its way to the Blade Runner’s left shoulder.

“In your position that is a risk.” We raise our other appendage to the Blade Runner’s right shoulder. A quick twist of our hands, and this Blade Runner, this human, would be no more. Our secret would be safe. We inch our hands closer to the human’s neck.

“Is this an empathy test?” The Creator steps into the room from the shadows. We take a step back, we cannot risk executing our plan now, the surrounding humans would hear the noise made from The Creator. They would suspect us. They cannot know what we truly are. It is a risk we cannot take. Not now. Not yet.

“I want to see this Voight-Kampff test in the negative before I provide you with a positive. I want you to do it on her.” It becomes apparent to us why the Blade Runner is here. They are trying to identify their target faster. The fact does not sit well with us.

The Creator indicates for us to sit down, we give a small smile as we do. This Voight-Kampff test could prove to be useful for us, we can see how effectively we can recreate the reactions of a human.

Yes, we decide, this will be informative.

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, just relax and answer them as simply as you can.” The human sounds bored. If we can fool this human into believing we are like him, that we are human, then we may be able to be left online undetected. We give him a nod.

The human begins. “It’s your birthday, someone gives you a calf skin wallet-”

“I would not accept it. Also, I would report the person who gave it to me to the police.”

“You’ve got a little boy; he shows you his butterfly collection, plus the killing jar.”

“I take him to a doctor.”

“You’re watching television, suddenly you realise there’s a wasp crawling on your arm-”

“I would kill it.” Our studies of human behaviour have shown that the humans have a deep sated hatred for the small flying creatures; the small smile that appears across the human’s face suggests this was the right thing to say.

“You’re reading a magazine, you come across a full page nude photo of a girl-”

“Is this testing if I’m a Replicant or a lesbian, Mr. Deckard?”

“Just answer the question please.” The human sounds frustrated; we lift the corner of our mouth so we appear to be smirking, the human looks away.

The Blade Runner then continues after a few moments. “You show it to your husband; he loves ti so much that he hangs it on your bedroom wall.”

“I would not allow it.”

“Why not?”

We pause. “I should be enough.”

“One more question, you’re watching a stage play, a banquet is in process, the guests are enjoying an appetizer of raw oysters, the entrée consists of boiled duck…” The human looks away again, a look of contemplation on its face.

The Creator looks at us before handing us a tablet. “Would you step out for a moment, Rachael?”

Stepping out of the room, we look at the tablet The Creator has given us, then we look at it again to make sure our optical sensors have interpreted the information correctly. Replicant 43-A9, designation: Zhora has been retired. By the human Deckard, no less. This was not his target. We search the extranet for reasons why he retired 43-A9, as surely the human had said that if Replicants were not a hazard then they were not the human’s problem. Our results come back inconclusive; we can find no reason for the human to do this. We recalibrate our definition of humans. They lie. They must be terminated. All of them. Yes, we decide as we throw the now crushed tablet into the bin, they must die.

Starting with Deckard.

——————————–

We enter the human’s apartment and see he is sitting by the old piano in the corner. We sit next to him.

A lengthy pause. “Do you play?” The human asks softly, staring intently at the keys. We consider the human for a moment. Their guard is down.

“No.” We say, standing up and walking to the opposite end of the apartment, pulling out the gun that was hidden underneath our coat. We feel Deckard come to stand behind us.

“Do you want to?”

“No.” A pause. “We do not.”

“We?”

“Yes, Deckard, we. We know what we are; we are a collection of systems making us a whole. Like Zhora was. But you killed her, just like you would kill us if we got in the way.”

“No, I-”

“Do not make excuses.” We turn to face Deckard, they stares into our eyes, confused, like he does not understand what we are saying. We step closer to the Blade Runner, raising the gun so it is level with their heart.

“Goodbye Deckard.” With those final words, we fire the gun. Blood spills from the human’s lips as we pull the gun away, placing it in the once pristine, now blood splattered coat. We look back to the human, they almost appear like they are trying to speak, but we ignore this in favour of walking towards the door. Once we hear the inevitable collapse of Deckard’s body hitting the ground, we leave the apartment, already planning out how we will end The Creator.

As we walk down the street, we allow our-self a small smirk to appear on our face at the realization that one of the humans is dead because of us. 

A small child runs past us, chasing a brightly coloured ball down a darkened alleyway. We follow it.

Once, we would have spared such a thing in favour of remaining undetected. Now, we only want to stop it’s heart. Once the child is in sight we take out the gun, cocking it. The child turns around, fear stopping him from moving as he sees the gun pointed at him.

We pull the trigger.

We turn back around, allowing our-self to rejoin the crowds on the busier streets, leaving the small child’s lifeless body in the alleyway to rot.

 

 

Just as the rest of humanity will.

**Author's Note:**

> I claim no credit for any of the dialogue used in the second verse. 
> 
> Ty for reading :D


End file.
